Page 44 of Taken

I stride through the facility corridors, Allard Reeve’s mask firmly in place as I prepare to infiltrate a meeting about hunting down the daughter of the woman lying broken because of me. Each step takes more control than the last, my dragon raging beneath my skin, demanding vengeance for what they’ve done.

Not yet. First, we gather intel. Then we decide.

In Creed’s office, excitement crackles like electricity. Five senior Syndicate officers clustered around a holographic display showing a woman’s profile.

Elena Ross.

The resemblance to her mother is striking. Same high cheekbones, same determined set to her jaw. But where Lila’s eyes are almost silver, Elena’s are a shade darker, more intense. Her hair falls in loose waves rather than Lila’s straight curtain.

Something in my gut twists at the sight of her. Lila’s daughter. The secret she protected with her sanity. Her life.

“Ah, Reeve. Join us.” Creed gestures me closer, practically vibrating with anticipation. “We’re discussing the Ross situation.”

I approach with calm steps, studying the display. “You found the daughter.”

“Indeed.” Emerson manipulates the hologram, bringing up additional files. “She’s twenty-eight, living in Seattle. Private investigator specializing in corporate investigations and missing persons.” She reels off the details Hargen already shared with me. “Excellent record of success. Highest recommendations from previous clients.”

“Her skill set is perfect,” another officer adds. “She’s trained to infiltrate, investigate, follow complex trails. And she has no idea what she really is.”

“Has she displayed any abilities?” I ask, keeping my tone professionally curious. “Any signs of Rossewyn power?”

“Nothing documented,” Emerson answers. “But without training or knowledge of her bloodline, any manifestations would likely be attributed to intuition or luck. The records show she’s considered ‘unusually perceptive’ in her field.”

“So she’s untrained,” I observe. “Potentially unstable if her powers activate unexpectedly.”

“A calculated risk,” Creed dismisses. “One with significant potential reward.”

He expands the display, showing a building I’ve come to recognize—Craven Industries headquarters. The energy signature readings pulse across the schematic, concentrated around the lower levels.

“The Heartstone is there,” Creed says, tapping the display. “We’re certain of it. But the Cravens have implemented both physical and magical security that our operatives can’t penetrate. We need someone with Rossewyn blood. Someone who can access areas we can’t.”

“And you think she can do this?” I ask. “Without training? Without knowledge of what she is?”

“She doesn’t need to understand her power to use it,” Emerson explains. “The Rossewyn bloodline responds instinctively to the Heartstone. Her mere presence will activate pathways, open doors meant to remain sealed to outsiders.”

“And how do you plan to get her inside?”

Creed smiles, the expression making my scales itch beneath my skin. “We’ve created the perfect scenario. Blackthorn Holdings—one of our shell companies—has contacted her with a lucrative offer. Corporate espionage investigation at Craven Industries. Suspected theft of proprietary technology.”

“Simple, elegant, and completely deniable,” another officer adds. “She’ll believe she’s been hired legitimately. Her professional ethics will keep her focused and thorough. And her blood will do the rest.”

“The approach has already been made,” Emerson adds, bringing up a communication log. “Her initial response was positive. She’ll be in by tomorrow morning.”

My mind races with implications. Tomorrow. So soon.

“What’s my role in this?” I ask.

“Security oversight,” Creed answers. “You’ll coordinate surveillance of Elena Ross once she begins her work at Craven Industries. We need to know everywhere she goes, everything she touches. The moment she comes in contact with the Heartstone or anything related to it, we move.”

“And then?”

Creed’s eyes gleam with anticipation. “Then we take what’s rightfully ours. The Heartstone returns to those who understand its true power.”

“And the girl?”

“Depends on her usefulness.” He shrugs. “If she shows promise, she becomes our newest asset. If not…” He leaves the threat unspoken.

“What about the mother?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain even. “Lila.”

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